A poem cradles,
A love you lose,
And it consoles,
Stings, big and small,
Because it’s made,
Of Love, that’s all.
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I see, I feel, I write,
No fame and no glory,Just trying to do,What’s right.
What am I without you?
A whisper, emotion,Without a face.What am I without you?Just fallen grace,A shadow that trembles,An empty embrace,That makes the World,The Loneliest place.
Interpret it as you will,
Poetry is stillThe reflection,The languageOf the Soul,That has no material form,No explanation, at allBut connects our dreams,To ideas and feelings,That are our finest, call.
Poor Trees,
Thinking that one day,They’ll reach the sky,Not knowing why,It’s an impossibility,But they try,They don’t give up,The strong green natural Skyscrapers,That hug the earth with roots of love.And stand proud and high,Always reaching for the unattainable Sky.
Life is the best addiction,
Respect others,Nature’s creaturesAnd creations,Read poetry,Enjoy the ArtsNo better treasures,Without restriction.
‘I know your tastes,
Your time around me,Your every sight,I know your wants,You’re dreams,You’re cares,And all the feelings,You want to share,I silently follow,Your every trail,But you’re not free,For I’m your jail.’Amazing!Who’d ever think,That a machine,Could know so much,About a human being.